The White Peacock
Page 38
I turned to George, who was also watching, and said: "You ought to be like that."
We heard Tom calling, "All right!" and saw him standing high up on the tallest corner of the stack, as on the prow of a ship.
George watched, and his face slowly gathered expression. He turned to me, his dark eyes alive with horror and despair.
"I shall soon--be out of everybody's way!" he said. His moment of fear and despair was cruel. I cursed myself for having roused him from his stupor.
"You will be better," I said.
He watched again the handsome movement of the men at the stack.
"I couldn't team ten sheaves," he said.
"You will in a month or two," I urged.
He continued to watch, while Tom got on the ladder and came down the front of the stack.
"Nay, the sooner I clear out, the better," he repeated to himself.
When we went in to tea, he was, as Tom said, "downcast". The men talked uneasily with abated voices. Emily attended to him with a little, palpitating solicitude. We were all uncomfortably impressed with the sense of our alienation from him He sat apart and obscure among us, like a condemned man.
THE END